


1BR/1BA, Batista District, Reasonable Rates

by amazinmango



Series: Body Pillow!Daud [1]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Idiots in Love, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Pegging, Polyamory, Romance, Serkonos is sweaty, explicit tongues in rude places, no beta we post first drafts like men, royal OT3 as per grumble, wee-hours smut, who is fully to blame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 11:23:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20599955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amazinmango/pseuds/amazinmango
Summary: This, Daud has come to realize, was inevitable.Between an Empress and her bodyguard, the weight of what had come before pulling him ever lower, all but helpless.





	1BR/1BA, Batista District, Reasonable Rates

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thegrumblingirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrumblingirl/gifts).

> Full blame to [thegrumblingirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrumblingirl/pseuds/thegrumblingirl) for her OT3 AUs/headcanons/general shenanigans

This, Daud has come to realize, was inevitable.

Between an Empress and her bodyguard, the weight of what had come before pulling him ever lower, all but helpless.

Jessamine makes a quiet snort in her sleep, where her face is tucked into his neck. It tickles.

Daud feels Corvo’s sleepy smile against his opposite shoulder, and it…tickles. Something else, something inside.

He thinks of just how he got here, and his own lips pull into something soft, something slowly becoming less unfamiliar every day.

\- -

He’d like to think he never saw it coming. That he saw—that he _knew _of a path entirely different, of a definite ending, either by the command of the Empress or at the hand of the Royal Protector himself.

Each of these outcomes has come to pass.

Several times.

Daud has learned through repetitive and tiresome experience that Corvo Attano is _stubborn. _His singular will awes Daud to this day, as does an apparent infinite capacity within his heart. He is tall, quiet, has patience to rival Daud’s own, and he is possessed of very large hands.

The Empress Jessamine Kaldwin herself is inevitable; she is a force as the sea itself, washing over all before her. She is a light that penetrates into the shadows for all that Daud tried to remain hidden, unseen. Her own gentle fingers prised him apart at the cracks, and instead of breaking him, pulled him together, maybe pulled him out of himself—made _him_ into something that can move into place between each of them, and, inexplicably, _fit._

It’s still novel, even as his heart beats heavy in his chest, his breathing long slowed. It’s a reminder he is alive. His body has ever been a tool. When he was young and foolish. When he was older, and thought he made his own choices, but instead let himself be used for coin. His hands which have taken the lives of countless souls, calloused and roughened and...accepted, now. Allowed to touch, and to _feel._

Daud has indeed found himself in a very curious and unexpected position; between those in power once more, and yet his choices are his own. His body actually at rest, nestled between the two most kind and pigheaded persons in the Isles.

Their hands have touched every last scar on his skin. They have undone him with caresses of their lips to the most innocuous of places: the insides of his elbows, behind his ear, underneath his jaw.

Their kisses have followed the deep line along his eye, and further down.

Sword-roughened fingers have touched the yet-newest scar along his side, and he knows that neither of them are unaffected, that none of them can forget what nearly came to pass. What his actions had wrought.

And still, they have ended up here, in the most improbable of outcomes (he hears this in a certain voice in his head, and grumbles a little to himself). The Knife of Dunwall with an Empress on one side, her bodyguard on the other, tucked into his body like a pillow. Warm, heavy, breathing together.

Daud is exhausted, and he is….safe, somewhere he can truly sleep. He lets himself bask in this. He strokes the skin under each of his hands and watches the candlelight dance dim over the walls, for just a little longer.

\- -

It had started because Corvo’s an ass.

Daud had had a long day, and to be fair, he’s not sure the Empress ever has any other, nor her Protector—but today had been one of travel, of meetings, of ‘settling in.’ It was long past time for Jessamine to visit Karnaca directly, for the Crown to speak openly with the Duke and address concerns left to Serkonos alone for too long.

To be fair, there had been a plague, a coup, and an assassination plot, and it wasn’t as if the ships in the blockade weren’t largely of Serkonos’ own navy. Regardless of Gristol’s late isolation, the Isles still needed their Empress. Perhaps more so now, a visible, tangible representation of the Empire’s beating heart, a sign of its strength and compassion. Serkonos was only the first stop of several; the Empress had an itinerary, for though she was an Empress of all her people across the Isles, there was much to be done.

_Jessamine _had her own plans. Meetings became conferences became town halls (carefully vetted by Attano and Daud, of course; they did have to draw the line somewhere, else Jessamine was likely to try for dinner with the townspeople in their own homes), and she _was _the Empress. Bound though she was by her obligations and schedules, she was a little freer with exercising a bit of privilege of late. There are those still of the old guard that would call her reckless, especially in light of current events.

Jessamine well knew the burden on her own shoulders, the social and political impact of her actions and inactions, fingers flying fast over typewriters as opinions flew off the presses on the direction of her glances alone. Daud knew she was _tired. _The plague had hamstrung her in so many ways—worn her down from its most base with the literal suffering of her people. This, compounded by the sheer _pettiness _of the nobility’s squabbles while her citizens died in the streets.

All this, of course, before the coup; then Burrows, Daud's own hand, and all that had come after.

Of anyone, she deserved a little vacation. Of every last soul in the Empire, she was the least likely to be able to take it.

Daud has always been of certain opinions regarding those in power. He's taken their coin readily enough, but he too has changed—is changing. He's found himself subject to not a little foolishness, now and then, for which the influence of the Kaldwin line and their bodyguard is strongly suspect. Hence this small…detour.

This part, Daud can cop to a little bit of the blame.

He hadn’t spent much time in Serkonos since his youth; contracts would see him to a target's location and gone again as efficiently as possible. He hadn’t truly settled until the Flooded District; his Whalers filling the broken spaces between ruined buildings with practice areas, archives, stacks of new and ruined books. More came (or were "adopted," to listen to Rulfio, which Daud generally tries to avoid) and with them sparring, chatter, the occasional shenanigans amidst purportedly professional assassins. Even so it was years before some part of him had, in a corner of his own mind, come to quietly call Rudshore ‘home.’

In his former line of work, with the Isles’ own share of disgruntled citizenry in the aftermath of the plague and Dunwall’s marked absence in international affairs, Daud would be the last person to suggest the Empress go off-plan. Yet if she were to desire a little escape from it all, after everything—he understood the value of even one stolen moment (“One _day, _just one day and maybe a night not to be an empress,”) when you couldn’t afford any. When the weight of the world was already crushing you and you just wanted a moment to _breathe._

That, he knew rather well.

Jessamine couldn’t escape her duty as Empress any more than Daud could escape his past. The 'detour' in Batista was perhaps a little predictable but unavoidable; the Empress had a conference with a prominent mining baron named Stilton and representatives from guilds and miner’s families in the coming days. Daud (and his network of Whalers-turned-spies) knew of an older, disused hostel run by an equally aged couple disinclined to pry into anything beyond the length of stay and if breakfast would be required. It was in relative proximity to Batista proper; no safehouse by any means, but it didn’t have bloodflies and the linens were well-worn but clean.

Corvo had expressed some concern with Jessamine being recognized, which Daud had echoed. Jessamine countered with the lack of posters and banners on every corner, determined to take that breather, and besides the locals here didn’t seem to get out much beyond their own little circle of doings, did they—what did they know of the affairs the Empire’s ruler across the sea?

(Daud had simply looked at her.

“Your face is stamped on the money.”

“In _Gristol _, no one asked you, Daud.”)

Daud had insisted a former Whaler settle the room and the patrols about it. Galia had been happy to organize and delegate to those that had remained; they'd been taking to their "super-secret espionage duties" a little too well, to hear her tell it. While securing a clandestine set of rooms for the Empress involved zero espionage insofar as Daud was aware, his lieutenants acquitted themselves admirably on short notice. A specific room was requested, patrols were assigned, and paths were to be watched and ready at all times should sudden exfiltration be necessary. 

Despite the precautions, Daud had his doubts, and he knew Attano carried them tenfold. The royal guard remained at the hotel, and while updated, rigorous training with awareness of, say, heretical assailants was the new norm ("They still don't look up." Thomas, dry as ever), there had been a necessary cleaning of house after Burrows' regime, and the Loyalist complications thereafter. The ranks showed it, and he and Corvo felt it; the impact of the coup and attempted assassination would ring for a long time, yet, another facet of the whole plague mess to clean up and an inverse amount of time to do it in.

And, if Daud was honest, all the more reason to get Jessamine her moment. Privacy was an illusion, worst-kept secret or no. She and Corvo deserved it, after everything. It should be _him_ out there on the roofs, instead of a living reminder in the same room, the man himself who had—Daud had to make himself consciously let that thought go.

Daud still held any one of his Whalers _(former_ Whalers, it was going to take him forever to stop calling them that) to ten or more for any member of the Watch. It would be those same Whalers remaining vigilant and ready throughout the night, less than a rooftop away, and a fair army of them dotted about and within the Tower with Lady Emily (including her 'favorites,' which Rulfio has been insufferable about since, though Daud can't doubt he's never seen the man's shoulders straighter).

Thus the room was secured, report delivered by a Whaler within the room of the very hotel Jessamine was ostensibly staying in that night, only to be replaced by the Whaler themselves. Daud had dryly asked if they could handle the duty.

("It has plumbing, sir. You know. Clean running water?"

"And...?" he'd asked.

"It has a _shower."_

"You'd think you'd spent years in a dilapidated hovel in the midst of a condemned flood, Quinn.")

Jessamine had made for the ensuite (with its _hot_ water) as Corvo quickly moved through the hotel room, nodding to the Whaler who gave a somewhat cheeky version of the usual salute before dissolving into Void ash. The Guard had secured the room and handpicked members were stationed outside of it, but habit had Corvo poking about, testing windows, corners, lines of sight. The opening drawers and cabinets, Daud suspected, had little to do with Royal Protector business and everything to do with the man's bottomless stomach. (He took a Tyvian pear from one of the many bowls for himself while he still could.)

Daud reported in turn once Corvo had finished his rounds. Transportation was a concern, and Daud frowned when Corvo appeared to be eyeing the roofline of the neighboring building outside the room. The guarded (and _bannered) _hotel-turned-embassy hotel had roof access via the hall only, as the windows were sensibly barred (though this precluded a quick escape). In the ensuite, Jessamine had spoken through soapy hands, washing the day's mask from her face; she suggested the roofs herself. Corvo just held up his left hand and wiggled his fingers, and opened his coat to show at least two visible remedies ready to hand.

Daud had looked at Corvo, and Corvo had looked at Daud. There were risks abound. It was the practical way for _them _to traverse unseen and the height of foolishness to bundle an empress along for the ride. Jessamine had finished in the ensuite during this silent conversation, emerging with her hands still dripping to playfully flick water at Corvo in a manner unbecoming of an empress. Corvo huffed and wiped at his face, smiling softly, and then he turned it on Daud.

It was possible their brand of foolishness was catching.

(He can still hear her, whooping like a child the first time he’d transversed one roof to another with her in his arms, nothing under his feet; can vividly recall the look on Corvo’s face as he’d blinked after them, hair wild and teeth bright. Daud still doesn’t know which of them he was smiling at more, eyes shining.)

Thus they found themselves entering via window into a humble suite with the clothes on their backs and the small bag Jessamine had put together, the breeze from the Peak following them in. Corvo went to examine the sightlines from the open windows while Daud opened and re-secured the locks at the door. He turned to receive the Protector's coat as he and Jessamine were quick to shed their outer layers, Corvo gesturing Jessamine first to the small but functional shower. Daud hung his own coat and Corvo’s (with its pocketful of figs he’d snatched from…somewhere) on the little rack by the door.

He’d turned to see Jessamine in just her shirt and trim waistcoat; the sleeve length one of the only concessions her Gristol-made clothing of office allowed for the weather. She’d begun unpinning her hair from its severe style, and like this, her boots carelessly kicked off near the door, her hair falling over her shoulders…she was just Jessamine. Though he had seen this transformation before, Daud still felt like there was something in his throat, making it hard to breathe.

Daud left his boots in a somewhat neater state near Jessamine’s, and he too retrieved Corvo’s to place them on the other side.

Three pairs of boots by the door, one glossy and short, one tall and worn; his, with all that they had tread through between them. For the tightness in his throat, there was a fullness in his chest that nearly negated the need to breathe entirely.

Though he might claim not to name or understand it, Daud well knew it had everything to do with the way an Empress gave him a small smile as she walked into the little bathroom alcove, how her Protector looked after her and then to Daud in turn with knowing eyes.

It was something he would have never imagined he'd see, both of them doffing their masks and becoming softer, something he could touch freely.

(He’s hit with a memory heavy with sense and imagery both, being sat in the chair they’d dragged from a desk to near the bed in the Tower, made to watch, made to suffer exquisitely until one of them then the other had extended a hand, fingers open in welcome—)

Daud had taken a heavy breath, aware of Corvo's curious eyes on him. They weren’t here for that tonight. It was to be...restful, restorative. A respite, a few stolen hours meant for actual recuperation in the midst of representing an Empire in the wake of recovery from the disaster that had befallen it before. A breather, indeed, for each of them, a moment taken, however foolishly, to prepare for the next day that was always coming.

And then Jessamine had emerged from the shower squeezing her hair with small towel, padding by Daud, shoulders still dewed with water wearing not a stitch. With a quiet murmur of “all yours” she moved between them to turn down the bed.

As he’d looked after her somewhat helplessly, Daud had to acknowledge that part was not, precisely, Corvo’s fault.

\- -

Everything that came after, however, could be placed squarely at the bodyguard’s unrepentant feet.

After respective single showers, Daud and Jessamine had settled into the bed together. Daud had half a mind that he’d emerge from his own rinse to find the two of them entangled and beckoning, or that Jessamine would get _ideas _while Corvo took the final turn in under the spray and Daud was alone with her.

Instead he’d come out with dry skin and damp hair to find Corvo sitting on the edge of the bed, miles of legs and gloriously nude. He’d let himself have just one moment to take in her hand on his forearm before their faces turned to him, Corvo with a little open smile and Jess with soft eyes. He’d felt himself flush, and moved forward.

He’d never had issue with his own nudity (perhaps not entirely true, as every mark on his body is a reminder and yet they insist on laying forgiveness and love even there). His nerves sparked and then eased when Corvo rose tall, Jessamine’s fingers sliding down his arm. Corvo bent to kiss his shoulder, padding by for the tiny shower. Daud wasn’t entirely sure Corvo wouldn’t have to duck to get his head under the water.

Jessamine had only beckoned him to the bed to pull him close, the weight of the day settling over them both. Jessamine—Jess, he thought, when she was like this—she’d decompressed, a little. Daud chuckled at her assessments of the people she’d spoken with today (or had been spoken _at,_ at any rate, his chest full again with how her voice held a little more hope for those she would speak with tomorrow. Daud had let himself be arranged, her hand idling in his hair as she talked, growing ever more comfortable with taking liberties and having them taken as her words washed over him.

There were still tentative moments: learning, unlearning or relearning Daud wasn’t always sure, but never had he felt lost. The sheet bunched at the foot of the bed, and despite the warmth of the evening Jessamine tucked soft and strong and slim against him. He’d allowed himself a kiss to her hair, she one to his chin. He twitched from a poke she’d given him in retaliation for an opinion (that matched hers, he argued, merely in blunter delivery) and he'd just poked her in return when Corvo’s steps crossed the small distance from the bathroom to the little closet nook by the doorway. He fiddled with something in Jess’ bag there before he came to the bed, his weight settling into the mattress.

Daud expected to have the bare length of the bodyguard pressed against him, to have a long arm sling over them both, and prepared to be tugged and arranged anew until they’d gotten him just like they wanted. (Perhaps he was rather getting accustomed to this, on reflection.) Corvo had only settled half on his back instead, hip and leg touching Daud’s, but not more than that. He’d offered a quiet consensus on the individual in question; Daud and raised an eyebrow only to have Jess roll her eyes and tuck close again, growing heavier in his arms.

And so he found himself pleasantly drifting, Jessamine close and Corvo near to his back, the evening breeze finally turning into nighttime coolness that allowed Corvo to scoot a little closer.

Except Attano didn’t drop an arm over or tuck his leg between theirs, as he often did; instead, warm, slick fingers smoothed into the dip in Daud’s spine and paused there, warmer lips pressing to the back of his shoulder. Daud found his body moving into the touch as if on its own, seeking the warmth of Corvo's skin.

Daud was surprised—not as much at Attano’s boldness, but at how relaxed he’d become, at his body’s own instinctual response. This must be what acceptance felt like, he thought; they’d corrupted him, so programmed was he to move into their touches. Without thought, in such a willing surrender, so new and foreign and perhaps the hardest thing he’s ever done.

Corvo felt it, Jessamine knew it as she looked into his eyes, and the hand slipped down, down, and down.

When Corvo’s gentle fingers found him and moved in little circles, spreading oil, he only felt more—

More.

He felt…cared for. He felt loved. Protected, of all things, between them—especially when his mouth opened to take in a breath and Jessamine’s hands found his face, held him and whispered that she was there.

This was to be Jessamine’s respite, and theirs too, yes, but—

Corvo’s fingers remained gentle, not pressing, perhaps asking. The man behind him was giving the attention rather than demanding it. He’d touched Daud like this before, like this was for _Daud, _that Corvo’s part in this was in the giving, and damn the man his touch felt so good…

He must have made some kind of sound, because Jess shushed him, but in the same gentle manner as Corvo’s touch; a reassurance, a reminder that she had him. That he could allow it of himself to relax, to make that sound again because Corvo’s fingers were clever and careful and he wasn’t inside at all, and it wasn’t a tease, it was just—perfect.

It was what he didn’t know he’d needed, and either they’d read in him what he hadn’t in himself, or he didn’t deserve either of them _(that_ he knew well). Yet—he was learning, allowing himself to accept that this was okay, and that yes, they had him; they made the _choice _to care for him, to care about him, and to take care of him—that he had the choice to let them.

And Daud, for once in recent memory, allowed himself to let go.

\- -

It’s a little sound, but it comes on its own and Daud doesn’t stop it. A tiny moan followed by a sharp breath, and he lets himself press back, lets his hands hold Jessamine to him as his body begins to respond. He’s not young anymore, and he revels in sensation from his whole body, not centered and not urgent. His skin is warm, and there’s already sweat, a little tackiness between him and Jess. His head is floating, cradled in Jessamine’s hands, strong and careful and so kind.

Corvo presses a little more of himself behind Daud, and his skin lights up there, too. Jess pulls him into a kiss, and Daud breathes helplessly into her mouth, accepts the touch of her tongue and lets her draw him in. He pushes back a little for Corvo, lets him know he wants and is ready for more, and just like that Corvo slips a finger inside, just enough.

Daud gasps against Jessamine’s lips and pushes back into a more intense kiss, and she meets him for it, pulls at his jaw and he’s sure that was Corvo’s tongue against his shoulder—yes, now the man kisses him there too, and there is the lightest, gentlest hint of teeth before another kiss, another careful, steady push of his finger until he’s all inside. Daud makes another sound, and if he didn’t know what these two sound like during sex he’d be embarrassed; instead, he feels safe.

He pushes back, already relaxed enough that now _he’s _demanding, wanting more now that he knows he does want. He breaks away to kiss Jessamine’s mouth, her chin, nosing at her jaw so he can lick gently at her neck and kiss there; behind him, Corvo moves his body closer again, though he still hasn’t pressed anything interesting against Daud. That’s got to be on purpose, because it’s like a lengthy tease that isn’t—there’s no rush, and he’s driving Daud higher even as his touch relaxes, because it makes Daud _want._

Daud remembers he has hands.

He strokes down Jessamine’s shoulder, back up along her elbow until he touches her own hand against his face; he slides it down her side to her hip, and holds her there. He presses it between them over her heart, the weight of her breast soft against his hand, so he can feel it under his palm as she pulls him in for another heavy kiss. Corvo mouths his shoulder and then licks up to his neck and _bites, _and Daud groans into Jess’ mouth when he opens and Corvo sinks another finger into him.

Corvo is still careful, but the clever bastard has paid attention and he's learned Daud's body to a degree that should be….something, anything but the odd sort of comfort that it is. Daud arches a little and presses back; he is relaxed and he is ready and he’s lightheaded with it.

Could be that he’s been kissing Jess too long, and he breaks away into Corvo’s hold instead, gasping. Jess’ laugh is this warm dark little thing that lights him up even as her fingers dance down his chest and torso, running over scar and muscle and skin.

Jessamine is slim and lithe, and Corvo is _lean _and toned. Daud is…he’d say old, big and battered, and any other sorts of bald truths that they have and do answer with touches and words and more kisses, and Daud _does not deserve _these two but he has come to accept he can’t stop them, and maybe he’s come to accept he doesn’t want to.

“Corvo,” he hears himself say, and the man twists his fingers firmly and Daud says it again. _“Corvo.”_

He pushes back hard, biting at Jess’ collarbone (this earns him a gasp, giggle and shove in that order) and this finally puts him flush with Corvo’s body and that’s his cock, pressed along Daud’s back.

Daud _rolls _from his hips up to his shoulders, trying to get a little of his own in; his body tightens up and shoots a kind of bright focus into his mind. Corvo makes a sound into his shoulder, mouthing at him and nibbling. “Stop slobbering all over me,” Daud grunts, and Jess laughs again when Corvo carefully pulls his fingers free and pushes Daud forward far less gently.

Daud catches himself over Jess and she pulls away to watch over his shoulder, and he feels Corvo get off the bed. He starts to turn but Jess’ hands catch his face and he falls willingly, sliding his tongue alongside hers. She’s an amazing kisser, and he _knows _she’s taught Corvo things because of the way Corvo kisses him too (or maybe Corvo taught her, he’s not entirely sure on that one). Daud nibbles at her lower lip, and starts to lay gentle bites along her neck, before catching himself—can’t have the Empress of the Isles bearing marks where they’re visible—so he goes back down to her collar, licking there, and since Corvo has apparently decided he has other things to do Daud begins to move down her body, drawing his tongue along her chest—

An impertinent slap to his ass has him pulling back and turning around, brows already knitted and Attano catches his face and only misses getting his tongue bitten because he pulls back just in time. The ass chuckles against his lips, and Daud’s face wants to smile; instead he bites Corvo’s lip, which only makes the bastard huff another little laugh.

He must have cleaned his hands, because they’re not slick; Daud pulls back from his awkward twist and looks down at Corvo’s cock.

Corvo’s made use of the oil, and Daud—Daud wants to do so many things at once. He still feels a frisson of anxiety, however brief—a complicated tangle of inadequacy, a fear of the love these two show him over and over and being found unworthy. Corvo's thimb moves gently over his face, catching against the beginnings of shadow. His elbow tingles from how he’s resting on it, and Jessamine’s hand has found his and he holds tightly. He wants to do so many things even if they scare him, and looks back up at Corvo’s face and meets his dark, dark eyes.

He lets himself drown.

He knows Corvo sees it happen, because even though his eyes have gone half-lidded Corvo’s mouth is strong and gentle both upon his, his big hand running down Daud’s side to his hip. He urges him to turn back towards Jessamine, breaking their kiss with a final press that leaves Daud trying for air he can’t quite get.

He lets himself turn, lets himself turn back to Jess and she receives him. He lets Corvo gently raise his leg, fingers on perhaps the softest part of him, warm callouses pressing to the very inside of his thigh and sliding down towards his knee. It tickles and makes him shiver, and his eyes flick up to Jessamine’s and hold there, not sure what’s on his face for the way she’s gazing back. Her eyes are warm and steady and _present. _ Daud angles his body, trapped between want and that little zap of fear that has nothing to do with the physical but a different kind of vulnerability instead; allowing himself to have this, to accept.

He does bite his lip at the first press of Corvo’s cock, breathes through his lips and feels Jess' hand on his face. It’s Corvo’s grace and control that allows them to come together without his hands—he’s there, he’s almost—Daud relaxes and moves back and he’s _there, _and Jess holds his cheek and murmurs at him and kisses him. Over his eye, the corner of his mouth, his lips, and he rolls his hips backwards and opens to them both.

They take him, each so gentle; behind him, Corvo inhales quietly and rolls his own hips forward, and Jessamine slips her tongue into his mouth and draws him out. Daud arches just enough for them, and Corvo is sinking in and Jessamine is gently sucking at his tongue and Daud moans, lost and found at once.

There's a shuddering moment when Corvo's hips meet his backside and he stills, hilted there. Daud wants him to know he is okay and grinds back, rolls and tugs and tries to get him going and finds a rhythm himself almost on accident. He makes sounds into Jess’ mouth and her hands start touching him everywhere, sliding out from his hair, running through the beginnings of sweat his body as he moves; alongside the inside of his thigh like Corvo had done, making him shiver again. Moving down, then up to cup his balls gently, her hand warm and fingers light when she closes around his cock, pulling upwards and careful of their tacky skin.

“Should have—should have brought the oil, bodyguard,” Daud manages, and Jess grins, petting the head of his cock with too-light fingers such that it _tickles _and he jerks, which makes Corvo grunt, though he smoothly recovers and now somehow it’s him with the rhythm and Daud leans back into it, feeling Jessamine’s hand back at his cock as his eyes fall shut.

Corvo supports him easily, and Daud lets his head go back. This, apparently, invites another bite from Attano—he has something a of a _thing—_and he picks up his rolls into the start of genuine thrusts, and Daud lets himself make a little noise.

Jess smooths the skin of his cock back, and she’s able to slick him up a little bit with it, enough to grip tighter and shift her hand along his cock and Daud groans, pushing into her hand and back onto Corvo and he chokes a little on a breath.

He’s had himself braced on one arm and the other has made its home on Corvo’s hip, and he slides it back to grip Corvo’s ass a little punishingly. He needs something to hold on to, and Attano has a fantastic ass.

Daud starts pushing back in earnest, and Corvo’s been peppering his back with his little bites and now he’s put his forehead to the back of Daud’s neck as Daud leans forward, and he knows he says something, goads Corvo with something but he doesn’t even know what he says, only feels his own voice and the hitch in Corvo’s breathing and he expects him to break. Corvo stills on a final push and holds steady.

Daud feels like he’s fairly vibrating at that, but Corvo doesn’t move, doesn’t grind, just holds Daud’s hip and it’s the way his fingers grasp that tell him he doesn’t want Daud to move either. Corvo breathes against his skin and Daud tries not to clench too hard around him, now that he’s still.

Jessamine’s hands aren’t idle; she’s moved right up in front of him and she’s petting over his side, his stomach with the backs of her knuckles, his jaw. She's gentling him, and he's gone soft indeed if just this and her words are soothing, whispering how good he looks to her, how she loves seeing them like this.

Daud floats, for a while.

He starts hearing her words when she speaks again, her left hand along his face where it’s kind of stuck to his own arm and the pillow. “Are you okay?” she says, and he only stares at her until she asks again, pressing small kisses against his lips. He blinks, and then seems to start breathing again, suddenly aware of the heavy pressure of Corvo inside him, Corvo’s body curved close to his back, Corvo’s warm breath against his skin. He manages a nod.

Corvo is now carefully stroking his hand over his leg, the leg Daud has back over Corvo’s own, pressed together as they are. There is definitely sweat making itself known, and he’s got a maddening urge to scratch at a spot behind his knee. His leg twitches.

Corvo moves his head, kisses his spine, kisses again at his neck and up near the base of his skull, just before his hair. His breath makes Daud shiver, there. “Can I back out?” he murmurs, and Daud nods, clears his throat and thinks he rasps something that sounds like “Yeah.”

Jessamine asks another question with her eyes, hand carefully trailing downwards but not touching him, just petting his stomach.

“M’not close,” Daud says, consciously beginning to control his breathing. “I’m. I’m good, I’m okay.” He says this for them, because he knows they need to hear it, and Corvo gently squeezes his hip in warning, starts to lean away. Daud takes in a breath and braces a little, pushes, and Corvo slips out of him with a gasp from them both, and Corvo’s peppering his shoulder with those kisses and walking his lips up Daud’s neck and Daud snorts when he licks far too wetly under his ear, and then Jess is on him and he makes an undignified noise when he falls to his back under them both.

Corvo even tries to tickle him, the bastard.

“Get off,” Daud grunts, but Jess is trying to nibble his lips and Corvo’s trying to— “Bodyguard if you stick your tongue in my ear _you will never walk again.”_

Jess laughs against his mouth, a bright, genuine sound, and she pushes herself off of him to look over at Corvo, and Daud’s eyes immediately narrow.

“What,” he says, and Corvo carefully doesn’t look at him. For all he doesn’t speak, the man has the shittiest poker face Daud has ever seen. Daud turns back to Jessamine, but she’s the Empress of the bloody Isles and knows a thing or two about straight faces.

Corvo slides himself off the bed, and Daud allows himself the moment of watching Corvo walk towards Jess’ mysterious little bag (he’d assumed a change of clothing, but now he has suspicions); observing a man of Corvo’s height managing his ridiculously long legs and an erection is, Daud feels, just recompense.

Jess pokes him in the belly in an obvious attempt at distraction, and Daud growls a little, leaning forward to bite at her jaw. She makes a high noise that is somewhat adorable and shoves at him while falling backwards and tugging him down; that’s his Jess, in a nutshell.

Daud stills over her, a little caught up in his own head, and she just. She smiles at him, big and open, and draws him down and he falls.

He knows _this_ wasn’t meant to be a distraction—her fingers are tangled in his hair and it’s not nearly as long as Corvo’s but after the shower there’s definitely room for some tangling—and they’re both a little lost in each other when Corvo flops back onto the bed, making them pop apart to look at him.

He’s partly on his side, one leg bent, hips cocked to show off—well, his cock, which proudly remains ready to serve, and he’s holding Jessamine’s next to it so the black leather of the straps drape over his thigh just so.

He looks like an idiot, and somehow it elicits the exact same swooping sensation in Daud’s chest that he just felt with Jessamine.

“I love you assholes,” he rasps.

He…did not expect that to come out of his mouth. It’s not even that they’d apparently been planning this, it just—happened, and he’s not really said it before and he realizes he doesn’t want either of them to think it’s just because of the sex they’re sharing with him, he hopes they know better than that, it’s—it’s _them, _they’re sharing themselves and what they _have _and how could he ever have imagined he’d be a part of that?

For all his stoicism and issues he’s well aware he has with expression of emotion, there are times when no poker face in the world would save him from their ability to _get him _sometimes, when he gets lost in his own head, something else he's pathetically grateful for.

Jessamine’s mouth is soft and warm under his ear, and he shudders. Corvo leans close and his mouth mirrors hers, and he thinks he may be shaking. There are hands on his body, strong and firm and small and large, gentle and warm, and he’s borne down to the bed and absolutely covered in the softest of kisses.

Corvo murmurs in his ear what Jessamine was saying earlier: how good he looks, and how much Corvo enjoys him being here, with them—his words are for right now, but they’re for always, and Daud has no idea how he can hear that in them but he does. His own hands find skin, move over Corvo’s back and the scars there, and he presses; he runs knuckles gently down Jessamine’s side, curving over her breast down to her hip.

Jessamine takes his mouth again, and Corvo reaches down, pets his belly, scritching gently in question, and Daud breaks away to breathe and nod, “Yes,” he says, “yes,” and Corvo takes him in hand.

His hand is slick, and then Jessamine’s fingers are there too, and they stroke him gently, and he quietly breaks under their kisses and their hands.

His body has always been a slow burn; there have been few, rather memorable times when either of them have managed to bring him off relatively quickly, to his surprise. Sometimes it doesn’t happen at all, and he’s often perfectly content with that. While Daud has been left frustrated by his own responses before, he’s learned the deep satisfaction of watching each of them reach their peak and shatter, has relished both being the one to cause it and, perhaps more, being there to catch them.

His breathing comes faster, and he tries to speak, and Jess is, for once, absorbed into her actions that she doesn’t notice, but Corvo pulls away and slows their hands. “M’okay,” Daud manages. Corvo grins and leans down to kiss him deeply, saying a hell of a lot without words, and Daud maybe floats again for a moment.

When Corvo generously allows him to breathe so he doesn’t expire (though, Daud thinks, truly not a bad way to go), Jess pulls back as well to get her devious little toy and get herself set up. Daud realizes suddenly he hasn’t touched her at all, not in fully equivalent places, but she’s already away so he lays back and lets himself breathe for the moment.

He’d never thought of this as something that would interest him before—in truth, in a way it almost doesn’t, except that it’s _Jess, _and it’s Corvo, and he’s the fool in love with them—and the sight of her raised on her knees, her glorious dark hair and confidence and this black leather cock proudly rising in place with dark straps over her hips…

It’s arresting, to say the least.

“Fuck me,” Daud mutters hoarsely, and Corvo snorts. Daud glares, because Corvo _knows _he didn’t mean it that way. Of course, Jessamine can’t let that lie. As befitting one who navigates court as the top authority in the Empire, she speaks with an eloquent eyebrow.

Daud, unimpressed, rolls his eyes. “How do you want me?”

Her face softens, and he knows that will always be his undoing. “As you are,” she says. Daud hopes that Thomas is ready to take on the mantle of Spymaster because he’s certain he’s not surviving this night.

Daud glances out the window for a moment to collect himself, and he sees that night has fallen. Concentration is a funny thing; the breeze is considerably cooler, pricking the hairs on his neck and arms. It lets him center himself, or at least attempt it. It’s one of the reasons he’s loath to relinquish control of himself; he’s had an iron grip out of necessity for so long. Most of his life. 

Letting go is quite the way down, liberating and terrifying at once.

With these two morons who’ve somehow decided they love him in turn, that he’s in good hands and won’t be left adrift. It doesn’t make sense and it sure as hell doesn’t make it _easy,_ but it makes it doable.

He’s learned that sometimes he needs to fall so that he can be caught, and picked back up again.

Daud pulls himself upwards to sitting—grimaces a little, oil in intimate places—and presents his back, shuffling to his own knees.

“I can’t believe you brought that with you,” he mutters, looking at Corvo, letting his eyes rove over his skin and scars. He's lost in the healthy olive color as Jess sidles up behind him, and he settles on his haunches and feels the warm, slick press of the cock against his back, feels her nipples brush over his skin, taut with the breeze, and something seizes within him.

“Do you need Corvo to start again?” she says, and he shakes his head once.

“Want you,” he says roughly, surprised at the truth of it. The desire is hot and low in his belly as well as in his soul and mind; he’s almost painfully hard, and he wants her, wants them both always, but now he wants _her _with a fierceness that surprises him.

“Fuck,” he half-whispers, and he lets himself fall away from her to his hands, and his elbows bend on their own accord and he goes down further. “Want you,” he rasps again.

To the side, he hears Corvo make some kind of noise.

Daud turns his head from where he’s hung it near his forearms, and Corvo looks struck as he stares at them both. In case they need a little reassurance, he shifts back a little, one of Jess’ hands coming to rest warm on his cheek, and he says “don’t bother with fingers” and _she _makes some kind of noise and then he can feel hear leaning in.

He braces himself at the touch of leather against his asshole, and he’s glad she warmed it (or Corvo did, and now he snorts because he’s imagining Corvo getting it ready, all oiled hands and face of serious concentration) and there’s a light pinch to his ass that has him jerking and starting to turn around—

“Pay attention,” Jessamine says, and shit, that’s her Empress voice. It should absolutely not fucking work but it _does._

Jessamine is something of a deft hand, for want of an appropriate term, at this particular pursuit. (Daud has had Corvo’s filthy whispered stories in his ear along with humorous recollections of ‘learning experiences.’ He’s also witnessed the Empress of the Isles take her Royal Protector apart piece by piece with this same cock and he finds himself pressing back, shuddering already in anticipation.)

“Fuck me,” he murmurs, meaning it in the proper context, and he can feel Jessamine use one of her hands to guide the initial penetration. It’s so different than Corvo’s skin, but with enough oil and enough desire on Daud’s part it feels exquisite. Daud groans out a curse and fights the urge to press back, to allow Jessamine to maintain control, and she glides forward, sinking into him, filling him. The cock is slimmer than Corvo’s, lacks a certain weight and presence_, _yet when Jess’ hips meet his ass Daud is struck with the feeling that suffuses him, completion and something wanton and needy all at the same time. He can’t help but grind backwards, doesn’t stop himself from doing it again.

Jessamine is braced for him, but still she moves back with him, being careful, and Daud doesn’t have time for that.

He growls a little and shoves backwards, and both her hands come to rest on his ass, still soft, still careful, and he does it again.

Her hands close over his hips tighter, and he’s about to push the issue when Corvo’s broad hand comes on his shoulders and presses hard as Jessamine pulls him back onto her and Daud lets himself go down onto the mattress.

Her first thrusts spread his elbows and knees outward—for a small person, she has a lot of _power—_and Daud grunts, and instead of bracing himself he’s just—melting, falling into the sheets with Corvo’s hand now soothing upwards into his hair, petting him there while Jessamine works him from behind. He lets the noises come, whatever they may be. He can feel his own cock heavy between his legs, and he just takes it, lets it happen. It feels _good, _and he lets that wash through him, the heaviness pooling, and he moans a little brokenly when Corvo cautiously takes him in hand, gives a careful, gentle stroke—as gentle as he can be with Jess moving him the way she is, the way he’s bent forwards.

“C—Corvo—” Corvo’s hand stills, but that’s not what Daud wants. “More,” he says, and one thing Jess does not have is Corvo’s bulk, but she tries, bless her. They’re on the same wavelength for the moment, and she leans down over his body more, pulling him into her motions, and then she drapes herself over him, her pale hands coming to rest on either side.

The thrusts are different this way, deeper. Daud knows the toy has little embellishments embossed on the inside (Daud honestly think she enjoys it enough that the stimulation is secondary) and she grinds a little here and there, chasing a taste of her own pleasure in giving this to Daud, and Daud grinds back, groaning.

She laughs breathlessly against his back, and then he’s pushing himself up, rising onto his elbows then his fists with her still draped over him, bearing her weight easily. She hardly misses a beat, and shifts back to grasp his sides and fuck into him with force again, and he grunts with it. Hear hears Corvo mutter “fuck,” quietly, low.

He feels Corvo’s hand touch the bunched muscles of his chest, blatantly feeling him up, fingertips teasing a nipple—Daud hisses—and his fingers slide around to caress the hard line of his triceps, further still to wrap around his taut forearm. Corvo’s hand slides to cover his fist, and Daud opens his hand to brace it against the bed, Corvo’s fingers spreading out and sliding between his, curling to squeeze hard, once, before he pulls away to let Daud brace himself again.

Daud grins, turning his head to seek his face, his own hair falling across his eyes. He never lets it get like this except—except when this is happening, and he’s used to shoving it out of his face when he first wakes that—a particularly hard thrust reminds him where he is, and he braces his hands and shoves back, but it’s harder than both of them expected. Jess actually loses her grip on his body and she pulls almost all the way out, but her hands slide to his hips and she straightens back out and hits her stride and Daud sees stars.

Corvo’s hand finds him again, and Daud manages a frantic “yes” gasped between his teeth, and Corvo strokes him firmly, not as fast as he needs, but maybe that’s okay because Jess is wrecking him and it’s good, it’s good but he needs—he wants to see them, he wants to see _her _and he can’t watch Corvo’s face like this, he can’t touch.

“Wait,” he gasps between breaths, and Jess slows immediately, then stills, her hands loosening to something supportive and cautious. Corvo’s dropped his hand, and the oaf is leaning down to Daud’s face like he’s worried so Daud just braces on his right and reaches with his left and drags him in for a sloppy kiss. Corvo grunts, and melts into it, and Daud pulls back enough to say "I want you to watch this” against his mouth.

He looks over his shoulder as he reaches back to tap Jess’ hip, and she carefully pulls herself from him. He flinches a little, and lets out a heavy breath, smirking at her. “Come here,” he says, raising onto his knees and gesturing her in front; he uses his hand to guide her and she looks at his eyes and something wicked glints there, like she knows what he’s after. Corvo looks between them, not quite having gotten it until Jessamine lays down and Daud sweeps his thigh over her, settles his knees to either side of her hips.

He reaches back with his hand to find her, she tilts her hips and he slides down, a wounded noise that’s him. He’s tightened up a little with everything and yet it’s so easy to sink onto her, to brace his thighs and he remembers to let himself breathe, feeling more than a little wanton.

Corvo makes a strangled noise, and Daud looks up from Jess’ face. Corvo’s hand has found his own cock but it’s not moving, almost like it was instinctual rather than conscious, and his face is ridiculous. Daud knows he’s smirking again and doesn’t care to stop, and when he rolls his hips once, Jessamine’s hands stroke up his thighs, and that’s where Corvo’s eyes fall.

“Shit,” Corvo says, and his hands are there too—he comes close enough to fondle the bulging muscles, squeezes and holds when Daud flexes them in a roll of his hips. Daud lets himself be loud, and he feels sparks inside as he grinds down onto Jess. He looks down at himself, stupid hair falling again, and he’s a little amazed as his cock gives a heavy twitch, clear fluid beading and falling. Corvo’s fingers touch Jess’ belly, rub it in there, and then carefully wrap around Daud’s cock.

Corvo leans in, eyes on his lips, and Daud nods into a kiss. Corvo strokes him with hands and tongue, Jessamine’s gentle hands sliding over what she can reach. She runs them over his legs and belly and Corvo’s hand on his cock, getting one wet. She pets over his chest and his scars and a nipple, squeezing and rubbing it when Daud nods again against Corvo’s lips. He pulls himself away and taps Corvo’s forearm, and when Corvo releases him and moves back Daud tries another roll, a different angle, and watches Jess’ face while he finds the one he needs.

And he does find it. When he’s got it—leaning back a little, one hand braced behind on Jess’ thigh near her knee, the other reaching for Corvo and finding his arm—he starts moving in earnest, and his head goes back on its own, and he feels Corvo bite his fucking shoulder again and he’s going to find _ants,_ there are tiny Serkonan ants and he’s going to put them in his damned smallclothes—

Daud grunts and makes some noise. Corvo’s mouth is hot and wet behind his jaw, under his ear. Daud only stares at the mess his cock is making of Jess’ skin, watch it move as she moves under him, moves with him, can only lean into the heavy hand at the back of his neck, massaging and squeezing, the dark voice in his ear, “the _fuck _are you doing to me, look at Jess, look at what you’re _doing_ to us, you fucking beautiful bastard,” and Daud makes his eyes open (when had he shut them? There’s so much to _see)_ and looks at Jessamine’s face, her eyes dark and open and a little awed. He stares, helpless, and when Corvo nips at his ear and it turns into a bite Daud hisses and turns with his own teeth bared, seeking—anything, jaw, lip, Corvo Attano’ fucking nose if he’s in reach—

Corvo’s eyes are dark and shining and his face is caught, and he’s panting like he’s the one being broken so beautifully.

Daud tears his eyes away, because he can’t look at that for longer than a second, but then there’s Jess with her small hands over his legs, her slimness between his thighs and he slows his hips to shift the angle—carefully, there, like that.

He bends to reach for her shoulders and slides his hands around her back, under her arms. He hauls her up, presses her to him and wraps his arms around her, one over her shoulders so he can bury a hand in her hair, the other squeezing a little tight around her back as he starts riding her. Jessamine tucks her face into his chest, his nose in her hair, and somewhere to the side Corvo makes a sound like he’s dying.

Daud brings his head up to see Corvo stroking himself frantically, and his hand stutters like he doesn’t want to finish but can’t stop moving. Daud rears back a little to bring his right hand up and tip Jess’ chin, leaning down as surges up to meet him. He kisses her or she kisses him and he moans into her mouth, maybe she into his, her hands roaming everywhere, h ass, his hip, shoulder, the back of his head.

She breaks away and looks to the side, and then Corvo’s there, kissing her while his hand goes back to Daud’s neck. Daud tilts his head back against it and rides harder, faster, and he thinks he can, he thinks he can finish like this, he might be able to reach it, his hips stutter and he thinks it’s _there_ and then he’s making the dying noise, he can’t breathe, he’s falling.

Corvo’s broad hand is on his jaw and Corvo’s tongue is in his mouth and he seizes up, a new wounded noise coming from somewhere deep as Corvo and Jess hold him, spilling between them, clenching hard on the leather of Jess’ cock inside. He has to break away from Corvo, gasping for breath, his skin feeling flushed all over; the cock doesn’t give like Corvo’s would, and it’s almost too much.

His cock twitches still, but he doesn’t touch himself, doesn’t move any more on Jess, just shudders. Almost immediately he has to push gently at her leg behind him and she leans back onto her elbows so he can rise up on viciously trembling thighs, free himself and fall. He flops somewhat gracelessly, kicking Corvo in the process, Corvo grunts and gives him room, and Jess is scooting to the edge of the bed. He dimly hears the buckles being released and Corvo speaking something lowly to Jess, and maybe some running water (he thinks he might be losing a little time, here) and he’s already anticipating the washcloth and he’s not sure he wants that just yet, but he can’t quite move, either.

A hand touches the inside of his elbow—it tickles—Jessamine’s voice. “Are you with us?”

“Mmh,” he says, and opens one eye.

She looks a little concerned, so he gives her a tired smirk. “M’here,” he says, then reaches for her and slides his palm along her arm to the shoulder. He rubs his thumb there, large and darker against her pale, unmarred skin, and makes himself meet her eyes when he realizes his had fallen. “Thank you.”

Her smile is kind and happy, and she holds up the expected cloth. He sighs, but doesn’t take it from her, lying still and letting her clean him up. She’s concentrating on him when he can still see where he spent over her skin; he would like to do this for her, but sometimes…sometimes it’s okay to let go. It’s something he’s learned she needs to do, they both do—they have this thing for taking care of him, and, as anything is with these two, it’s inevitable.

Jess folds the cloth over to a fresh spot, still warm with water, and he moves his thigh aside and lets her clean him gently. He breathes through it, the cloth a little rougher here, but she’s thorough for all she doesn’t linger. As he tilts his head back, and a thought occurs to him.

His voice feels about three times as hoarse as usual. “The windows are open.”

“Breeze,” Corvo says shortly, having apparently returned. “I washed,” he says, and Daud glances at him briefly as Jessamine bundles up the cloth, moving off the bed, Daud’s eyes following her to the bathroom.

“Okay?” he says, then he realizes Corvo’s talking about himself, and that the poor idiot’s still hard.

“Attano,” he says, exasperated, and he looks for Jess—she hasn’t been seen to either—and Corvo’s crawling over him on to the bed, lilting his chin up and making Daud look at him.

“Hey,” he says, all big brown eyes, and Daud murmurs “hey what” softer than he means to before Corvo kisses him, deeply and thoroughly and Daud finds his fingers winding into Corvo’s hair, lest he float away.

“Don’t mind me.” Daud opens his eyes and Corvo pulls away slowly. Jess is wearing this soft smile, sitting on the edge of the bed, beautiful and nude and Daud’s smiling at her in return quite without meaning to; it just happens.

“Corvo,” he says, and when Corvo makes an inquisitive noise he plants both his hands on Corvo’s chest without looking and pushes him to the other side. Corvo squawks and slaps at Daud and misses, but when Daud rolls and raises himself up to move to Jessamine Corvo lands a decent smack to his ass.

Jess just gives them both a look.

Daud moves to the foot end of the bed, and gestures in front of him. “If you please, Empress?”

Jessamine’s face does something else (he knows better, and teases her anyway) and she moves to be in front of him instead, placing a thigh on either side of his. Her eyes are dark as she leans over, and he tilts his head up on instinct, her lips barely brushing his. “In this bed I am Jessamine,” she says, her voice a little dark, and he inhales a little shakily.

“Understood,” he says, bringing hands to her hips, then cautiously up her sides. He sees Corvo biting his lip out of the corner of his eye, and glances at him meaningfully. Jess doesn’t miss it, only takes one of Daud’s hands and shifts it to her front, where he slides it up to her throat, to the side, cups her jaw as he places a careful kiss against her mouth. He draws his hand back down, thumb settling over a nipple, gentle at first, then firm when she uses teeth on his lower lip.

He hums into her mouth, opening up, and moves his hand down as he hears Corvo shifting behind her, and then his broad hands are on her hips, her sides, stroking down one arm where she’s draped it over Daud’s neck.

Daud finds her hot and wet and open, and thinks of both her and Attano, wound up while he still buzzes. He’s lazy with it, at first, stroking her, pressing, and she grasps his wrist and tilts her hips for his fingers and his thumb and he draws her tongue into his mouth.

She makes a soft sound, intent on kissing him, moving her hips a little, and Corvo’s hair brushes them both as he bends to her neck, kissing down to her shoulder so he can do his damned biting again, where marks won’t show. Jessamine laughs breathlessly into Daud’s mouth, and he smiles against her, and then he feels her raise up a little more and then Corvo’s carefully pushing his cock under her, bumping Daud’s hand.

It’s the easiest thing to shift his fingers out and underneath Corvo, to let him rub between his hand and Jess’ flesh, Jess pushing forward into his thumb and down over Corvo. Corvo makes a sound into Jess’ skin, and when she rides a little forward Daud angles his hand, angles Corvo’s cock and she pushes back, takes him in.

She makes a sound that’s somehow exasperated relief, and Daud chuckles, bending to lick at her throat when she lets her head fall back, lets her body go back into Corvo as he starts rolling his hips with her.

Daud kisses his way to her shoulder, noses at Corvo to get him to look up and meet his lips; he pulls away to let Corvo mouth at Jess’ ear and he licks at her lip, into her mouth. He moves his thumb for his fingers and back, feels where Corvo slides into her, holds Jess’ hip gentle in his other hand. She’s so slim, his hands so large against her. He slides his left up, touches her breast, strokes over her shoulder, slides through her hair.

She controls the pacing, sometimes speeding up, and Corvo rolls with her, supporting and moving her body. Daud starts moving his hand a little faster, starts concentrating on the good spots, and Jess gasps and pushes into him a little, starts biting at his own neck where she damn well knows a high collar will conceal but they’re in _Serkonos _and he’s packed _linens—_

Corvo speeds up on his own, grunts a little, and his forehead rests on Jess’ shoulder. She leans back into him, and Daud’s not sure anymore who’s bracing who, so he reaches for Corvo and finds him just as he stutters, as he grinds gently in place, his hand falling to Corvo’s knee, and then Corvo moans out a shaky little sound and Daud’s other hand slides over Jess to feel him pulse, hot, then to Jess, hotter. Another moan, and Corvo grows heavy against Jess’ back, and Jess gives a tired chuckle of her own, Daud’s lips pulling into a grin.

“Shut up,” Corvo mutters, and Jess makes a conciliatory noise as she reaches back and buries her hand in Corvo’s hair, turning to breathe softly against the side of his head.

Daud strokes Jess, keeping her warm, trying to not to tease but not trying to bring her off, not yet. He pets at Corvo, which earns him a weak little growl, and Corvo heaves his head up to kiss Jess soundly as he pulls back. Daud feels him slide over his hand and then he’s pushing two fingers into Jess, making her gasp in surprise even though they’re nothing like Corvo’s cock. He grins and puts his thumb back to good use.

She’s wet and open and _hot, _inside, and he feels both her and Corvo running down his hand. They’re going to need to change the sheets, except he doesn’t think there are spares. Jess is sweating, and Daud finds himself licking at her neck again, bending to lap and then seal his mouth over her nipple. She holds his head there, and Corvo shifts to support her so she can lean back, and then Daud pulls away, wipes his hand roughly on the sheets before reaching for her thighs.

“Jess,” he says, roughly, and her eyes open as he leans back and _lifts, _and Corvo, bless him, is ready. He supports her back against his chest as Daud leans, drawing her legs to his shoulders and leaning, shifting his hands under her backside and he feels something almost predatory stretch his lips across his teeth, for all that his head feels full of muzzy softness.

He glances at Corvo and winks; Corvo only rolls his eyes and Jess is looking at him with _intent, _as though she were the one between his thighs in the position of power, and Daud, caught by her eyes, swallows.

She has a moment to say his name, low, before he brings her to his face, bends his mouth to her.

He hears Corvo echo his name, and he makes his tongue firm, because the time for teasing is long past; he points and strokes, and Jessamine allows herself her own noises, freely and unashamed, perhaps too exhausted to care.

Daud abruptly remembers what he was telling Corvo about the windows, and he figures at this point that whichever former Whalers are likely on watch have long decided any rooftop in reasonable proximity will do, provided it’s not _this_ one.

Daud uses his lips and tongue, and Jessamine moans. He gives gentle nibbles, and she pushes at his head, so he suckles instead, and she _writhes, _fingers fisting into his hair and pulling him closer instead, holding him there as she grinds. It’s more than a little messy and he absolutely does not care; he tastes her and Corvo, and he bends to lick lower, moans into her as her thighs tighten and squeeze against his shoulders.

He hears Corvo soothe her, maybe muttering dark things into her hair by her ear, and when Corvo sees him looking at him across Jessamine’s gorgeous, taut and shaking body, he speaks up a little more. Daud hears him now, and Corvo’s spurring them both on—how he knows Daud can taste them both, how Daud looks so good, big between Jess’ thighs, how he loves hearing the sounds she makes, how amazing she is for them both, how much he loves her like this, how much he loves her.

“Love you, so much,” he’s saying, eyes on Daud, words brushing across her ear, and Jessamine gasps out “love you, assholes,” and Daud breaks away to laugh, and Corvo snorts into her neck. “Get back down there,” she says breathlessly, and Daud does.

He delves his tongue into her, chasing Corvo, coaxing her to and away from her peak. He plays his lips at her folds and closes them around her most sensitive of places, curling his tongue; such a small part of her and yet so very responsive.

He feels powerful. He feels humbled.

He feels loved, and he feels love. He pours that into her as best he can.

He hums and moves his tongue and suckles and then she stiffens, cries out, her body moving against his mouth. Corvo holds her, Daud holds her, and she shudders hard. He moves with her, slows as she slows, prolonging it as much as he can until she’s gently fluttering her hand at his forehead. He closes his eyes when she bats him in the face, and he leans back and lets her down towards his lap, Corvo gently moving from behind her to lay her down.

He’s leaning back and drawing his hand across his mouth when Corvo’s lands on his chest, rude and impertinent and _heavy. _He grunts as Corvo pushes, where he’s little sticky, and then their bodyguard is leaning down and covering her with his mouth just at her apex she _yells. _Daud, struck, just watches as Corvo uses years of experience and pure dirty trickery to get her to come again, and _hard, _as Daud can attest given the view. And the noise.

Jess all but shoves Corvo away from her, and the grin on Corvo’s face is far too smug for Daud to be echoing it but it can’t be helped.

“Ass,” Jess mutters with no little affection, laying in a sweaty heap half-on Daud and still panting.

Daud gets an idea.

He slides out from under Jess—has to help her move her legs, which aren’t obeying her at this time—and then he turns on Corvo in a moment, hooking fingers under a knee and leveraging his hand against the opposite shoulder.

Corvo is, thankfully, otherwise aware of his limbs, so his arms go safely upwards away from Jess when he falls backwards. Daud pushes himself between Corvo’s knees. Corvo spreads them willingly but Daud still uses his shoulders to open him up, because he knows what being manhandled does to Corvo. He leans down as he takes him in hand, barely half-hard, deliberately meeting Corvo’s eye as he pulls his skin back before kissing the very tip of him and then sucking him into his mouth, earning a gasp.

Jess makes a tired, victorious noise.

Corvo gasps and jerks, half-pulling away, but the hand that comes down on the back of Daud’s head doesn’t push; fingers go into his hair, and it’s shaky but Corvo writhes and lets him do what he wants.

“Fucking—Daud,” is all he manages, and Daud takes what he can (Corvo is a little smaller, a little softer, still warm and wet and Daud _licks_ to get Corvo to curse again. He doesn’t stroke with his hand, instead holding what he can’t take, and sucks gently as he pulls off, drawing skin with him, licking a last little taste of bittersweet as he releases Corvo and lays his cock gently against his belly.

He glances at Corvo’s shamelessly spread legs, Corvo’s eyeing him suspiciously. Daud’s not hard, likely won’t be again tonight, but he gives Corvo a dark little grin anyway, promises of Corvo’s thighs over his shoulders in the points of his teeth.

So he’s a little smug; the night went well. A chance to be…not Empresses, or Spymasters and overworked Protectors. Just themselves, taking each other apart in relative safety and, for a brief few hours, freedom.

“Shower?” he says, voice rough, and Corvo vaguely flaps a hand and Jess gives a comically artificial snore.

He huffs. “M’gonna get cleaned up,” he says, his own limbs still a little questionable. He leaves them to it and goes to the little bathroom, decides to go ahead and turn the shower on because plumbing in this part of Batista is worth it if you have it. The water’s still lukewarm, cooler than the sweat on his body, but not by much, but he gets clean, rinses his mouth and dries his hands.

He towels his hair into submission, but doesn’t bother to oil it before bed. He fully expects a pair of snoozing persons when he returns, but he finds Jessamine to the left near the window (a part of him balks at that, and he reminds himself of the poor Whalers stationed outside) and Corvo on the right, curved around an open space between them, sheets tucked just over their waists.

Their hands are joined there, in the middle space, arms tucked under their heads as they stop their quiet conversation to look at him. Jessamine’s face is so soft like this, her hair a riot across the pillow. Corvo’s isn’t any better, and he frankly looks a little ridiculous, and the way they’re framing the center of the bed could kill Daud, he thinks, just a little.

He steps up to them, slowly, feeling foolish and trying not to be (he’s _working on it, _he really is) and they’re so patient that it does kill him a little bit.

He carefully raises his knee and plants it on the bed over Corvo, bracing an arm over Jess and they’re moving, slotting him in between them for all his bulk like he belongs there. He’s being gently arranged, finds himself on his back with a Protector on his left, an Empress on his right, and then legs drape and tangle and they lay their heads down on either of his shoulders.

Corvo’s hair tickles his ear, and Jess’ tickles his nose. He carefully reaches, first Jess, pulling her hair away from her face, then to Corvo, tucking it behind his ear, stroking at his jaw while his right hand slowly moves on Jessamine’s back.

Their hands meet again over him, one darker and large, the other paler and small. Their weight is warm, protective, heavier than their bodies and yet it buoys something inexplicable in his chest. Daud looks at their fingers intertwined, and his breath catches, just a little. He swallows and tries not to draw attention to it, but then there’s a kiss to his neck from Jess, Corvo’s lips on his shoulder, and he lets himself close his eyes and sink into the bed.

The district is quiet, the nighttime breeze still a welcome brush over their skin, and Daud takes a deep breath, holds it for a moment, and then he releases it, slow. After, he feels like he can breathe a little better. He turns his head to Corvo, kisses his forehead to a sleepy grunt, then to Jess, and presses his lips to hers, earning a small, tired smile against his skin.

He lays his head back down, already feeling the undertow, and he thinks he murmurs, “love you, assholes,” as he drifts into the warm dark.

**Author's Note:**

> And that’s how Daud became a body pillow
> 
> [first round of edits incorporated, this is why we don't post first drafts like men but like mangos]
> 
> **Bonus:** In which Rinaldo regrets his life choices
> 
> Whaler, minding own business: hm, actual nice night, humidity off the cove really isn't that bad--  
Room: MOAN  
Whaler: .....  
Whaler: it's fine, this is fine  
Room: AAAUGH  
Whaler, whipping out cell phone: T do I have to stay here cn I ptrl pls  
Room: BY THE VOIIIDDD  
Whaler: T pls  
Whaler's fone: Man the fuck up Rin  
Whaler: who is this & y u have T's phone  
Room: CORV--JE--AAAAGHHNN  
Whaler: cn I pls transverse directly into the bay  
Whaler's fone: this is why you don't shirk training bb have nice nite luv u [buncha kissy emojis]  
Whaler, aloud: "Rulfio you fucking asshole"
> 
> tumblr chat w/grumble about the poor idiots stationed outside the open windows x3  
  
  
Headcanoning Daud as demisexual with something of a mixed sexual response
> 
> Original thought that spawned this:  
Jess: has wicked leather strap-on because lbr she would  
Daud: grins at Jess over his shoulder and gets her in front of him, riding her while he straddles her with his thicc thighs  
Corvo: *dies in Serkonan*
> 
> no really tho any glaring goofs hit me up, lame title is lame. also if any quibbles on how i handled daud's demi-ness lemme kno
> 
> orig was Body Pillow!Daud [AKA DAUD IS **THICC**]  



End file.
